


The Arrangement

by Anonymous



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Muggle, Alternate Universe - The Proposal Fusion, F/M, Fake Marriage, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29812647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Ron is the assistant to an up and coming lawyer in London. He's always done everything he's told in the hopes of one day snagging a promotion to practice law with the firm, until one day his boss has a really big request. Based on the movie The Proposal and written for the Ron's Chessboard fest.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 17
Kudos: 46
Collections: RomioneCom, Ron's Chessboard Fest 2021





	1. Chapter 1

###  Ron

My eyes slowly opened as the sun shone brightly through the bedroom window. It took me a moment to think about what day it was, and then subsequently, whether or not I really had to get up and go to work. I was an assistant to a fierce and ruthless lawyer who was ironically the same age as me. That could have been me in her position if I had the drive and desire.

I checked the alarm clock on my nightstand, only to realize it somehow got unplugged at some point last night. Checking my watch instead, I realized it was 7:30.  _ Fuck _ . I was going to be late. Jumping out of bed, I hopped in the shower, quickly got dressed, and grabbed my briefcase as I ran out the door.

London was bustling as always, and I hoped I wouldn’t sweat too much as I half jogged to the coffee shop around the corner from the firm. Naturally, the line was out the door when I got there. I didn’t have time for this shit. I looked to the counter, where the friendly blonde barista caught my eye. 

“Ron!” she called as she held up two coffee cups. 

_ Oh, thank god!  _ I thought as I weaved through the line to grab my order. 

“Can I add a muffin today?” I asked as my stomach rumbled.

I didn’t have time for breakfast on account of waking up late. The hot barista nodded as I handed her my credit card. I was on my way after a couple of minutes and hoped that I’d still managed to beat my boss to work.

Thankfully, luck was on my side this time. When I walked into the office, everyone was milling about leisurely, which meant I arrived first. I set the coffees down on my desk and booted up my computer while I wolfed down the muffin. As soon as she walked through that door, I’d be pulled in five different directions all day, so I needed to eat now. I swallowed the last bite as the inter-office chat room popped up on my monitor.

_ The witch is here. _

Immediately, the entire office turned into a solemn zone of productivity. I finished verifying the day’s schedule as my boss, Hermione Granger, strolled into her posh corner office. As she closed the glass door, she turned around and nodded for me to come along. I grabbed her coffee and slipped into her room.

“Morning, Ron,” she said as she sat down behind her desk.

“Morning, Hermione,” I said, handing her the coffee. “You know you’re supposed to be in McGonagall’s office in ten minutes for the meeting on the Lestrange case, right?”

I caught a vague eye roll as she took a sip of her caramel latte with skim milk. “Yes, though I’m not sure she’ll be telling me anything I don’t already know. I’ll just call her now and see if we can hold the briefing via phone conference. Oh, and then after, you’ll need to come with me. I need to speak with Zabini.”

I raised an eyebrow in her direction. If it was about what I thought it was, it was going to be brutal. I nodded as I left so she could call her superior. She messaged me no more than five minutes later, saying she’d taken care of the briefing and we’d be on our way to Zabini’s office soon. I opened up the chat screen and typed the following message:

_ Taking flight in two. _

Hermione was challenging to work with, but she wasn’t entirely awful, though most of the office seemed to think so. I kept them in the loop because I wanted to stay on their good side, but I also didn’t want to piss Hermione off. I’d been working as her assistant for three years, and I knew a promotion would be in my future soon. I was qualified and more than capable of joining her legal team. I just needed an opening. And if Zabini was getting sacked, this may just be my opportunity.

Her office door opened, and she pointed down the hallway. I grabbed my pen and a legal pad and followed. Hermione didn’t bother knocking when we arrived outside his office door.

“Zabini, Zabini, Zabini. Just the person I was looking for,” Hermione said with her signature fake smile.

“Good morning, Ms. Granger. To what do I owe this visit?” 

I could tell real arse kissing from fake, and this was most definitely the latter. 

“I think you know what I’m here for.” She waited for him to say something, but his uncompromising stance told them everything they needed to know. “Your paperwork has been slacking over the last few months, and you’ve lost more cases than you’ve won. We just can’t have that. And don’t try to tell me that it’s because you’re overworked. You’ve got the lightest caseload on the entire team, and quite frankly, you’re making us look bad.”

“Surely, you aren’t considering firing me?” Zabini questioned. He was a little too comfortable with everything in my opinion.

“Considering? Oh, you and I both know we’re past that point. You’ll have two weeks severance to find another job, and I’ll even be nice enough to tell the rest of the floor that you’ve resigned in order to pursue other interests,” Hermione said smugly. “I’ll expect you to be moved out of the office by the end of the day tomorrow.”

I looked on at the exchange before following Hermione out of the office. Zabini looked like he was going to retaliate, which was not going to end well in his favor.

“Don’t do it, Blaise, don’t do it,” I heard Hermione mutter as Zabini was moving to follow.

I braced myself for the shit storm that was about to unload.

“You selfish bitch,” Zabini said, loud enough for the rest of the office to hear.

“Blaise, I told you not to do this.”

“You think you can stroll around here and just decide who’s worthy of staying or going all because of their performance? Maybe if you gave me cases that stood a chance in the courtroom, I’d be performing better! You’re blackballing me on purpose, Granger, and this is not the end!”

“Alright, Zabini. Unfortunately, you’ve now got until the end of today to pack up your office. If you don’t leave peacefully, Ron, here, will call for security, and you’ll be escorted out. One more word, and I’ll call McGonagall right now and have her cancel the recommendation letter we’ve got prepared for any of your prospective employers.”

“You are certifiably insane. The whole office knows it. No one likes you. They barely respect you, and everyone’s terrified of you. Not sure who wronged you along the way, but you’ll never make any friends with your attitude.”

“I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to do my job, and today, that includes firing you. You dug your own grave, Zabini. Now it’s time to lie in it.”

I watched as Hermione spun around and walked back to her office with purpose. I followed, fully aware that all eyes were on us.

“That went well,” I said slowly after I shut her office door behind me. 

“That’s a word for it,” Hermione scoffed. “I knew he was going to act like that. He thinks he’s entitled to the position just because his father holds clout in the inner circles. Well, that’s not happening. You don’t pull your weight; you don’t belong on this team!” She slammed her things down on her desk.

“Speaking of pulling weight…” I started to say, but Hermione’s phone rang.

I noticed her cringe as she reluctantly answered.

“Hi, Mum,” she said in a strained tone. 

  
I started to walk to the door, but Hermione held up her hand to stop me.  _ Great. I get to sit here and listen to this awkward phone conversation.  _

“Mum, we’ve been over this. I’m happy here.— No, I’m  _ not  _ moving back to France.— You have  _ got  _ to be kidding me! That’s rubbish!— I will not!— No, Mum, this conversation is over!” She snapped the phone shut.

“Is everything alright?” I asked, knowing full well that it wasn’t.

“No. Not at all.” Hermione said shortly.

For the most part, our relationship was strictly boss and assistant, but I’d gotten to know Hermione fairly well over the last three years. Rarely did anything rattle her this much, and when it did, we’d get together outside the office for pizza. She really wasn’t a terrible person, and honestly, she didn’t really have anyone to vent to, so I resolved to take one for the team long ago if it helped my chances of promotion. Of course, it didn’t hurt that I was the only one around here who could stand up to her and still live to see another day. I had a feeling tonight was going to be one of those nights.  _ At least it wasn’t tomorrow _ .

“Pizza tonight?” I asked.

She looked up at me, and I saw some relief flood over her face. “You really are the best assistant; you know that?” Her features softened for a rare moment. 

“I try.” I decided not to bring up the vacancy right now.

“How’s 7:00 sound? My place?”

“I’ll bring the pizza if you provide the booze.”

“Would you have it any other way?”

  
I caught the smile playing on her lips as I walked out of her office. So much for asking the hot barista out tonight, I thought, noticing her number on my coffee cup when I sat back down at my desk. Oh, well. If it meant I’d be that much closer to that promotion, it’d be worth it.

###  Hermione

I gave one last glance around my apartment, making sure everything was just right before Ron showed up. I didn’t have many friends since I worked so often, which meant I rarely entertained at my flat. Once in a blue moon, Ron would come over, so I could vent about whatever was bothering me with work, and we’d eat pizza and drink a little too much. At least  _ someone  _ was able to see me as a normal person.

I knew I was a notorious hard-ass at work, but when you’re a female lawyer in a prominent firm, you have to be cut-throat to achieve something and stand out among your colleagues. Sure, it was rubbish being an outsider in London, with no family and friends, but I operated better alone. I learned long ago that no matter what I did, it’d never be the ‘right’ choice, according to my mother, but I wasn’t about to let all my dreams slip away because she wanted me to settle down and be a housewife to some well-to-do gentleman. 

Ron was the closest person I had to a friend, even though he was my assistant. I never understood why he settled for that position. I always assumed it was because he was lazy. Not that that added up, either, since he ended up putting in just as much overtime as I did daily.

Come to think of it, I barely knew anything about his personal life, let alone his aspirations. He was always more focused on making sure his work was completed or that I was happy. Not that we didn’t argue. He wasn’t afraid to tell me when he thought I was wrong, or if he disagreed with a certain angle I was planning to take on a case. No one else in the office ever dared to speak out against me. I wondered how much the office staff paid him to keep me happy. Sighing, I leaned against the kitchen counter. How did McGonagall do it? She was held in such high regard among her colleagues; everyone respected her  _ and  _ seemed to like her. What was I doing wrong?

I quickly shook the thoughts from my head as I checked my watch. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t there to make friends; I was there to make a name for myself. I’d continue to deal with the loneliness the way I always had before. 

There was a knock on the door. Seven o’clock, right on time. He knew I always appreciated punctuality. I opened the door to greet him, but instead, a stranger was leaning against the door jamb. 

“Can I help you?” He must have the wrong flat. 

I waited for him to answer, but he stood there eyeing me up and down like I was a piece of meat. He was tall with a stocky build. His hair was dirty blonde and his facial features were pointed, which intensified the look of his cold gray eyes. Any normal woman would be swooning over him, but I could see right through his cocky attitude.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” he crooned.

“Absolutely not,” I laughed derisively. “I don’t invite people into my home that I don’t know.”

“Well, I reckon we’ll be getting to know each other much better soon, so you best open up.” I wasn’t sure, but his statement sounded like he was alluding to a double entendre.

“Excuse me?” What was he trying to insinuate?

“Your mum didn’t tell you I was coming? I’m Cormac McLaggen. Your soon-to-be husband.”

I felt all the blood drain from my face. This could  _ not  _ be happening. There was no way. Mum was insistent I find a husband or she’d arrange something; she never said she already  _ did  _ arrange it!

“That’s not possible,” I said defiantly.

“Ah, but it is. I’m not sure what would make you think it couldn’t be.”

I had no idea what to say to make him leave. All of my lawyerly skills had vanished entirely from my brain as my stomach churned, and I was trying to control the onset of anxiousness that was making me begin to sweat. There was no way I would ever marry him. Both he and my mum were out of their minds if they thought that was the case. 

The elevator dinged, and I looked past him to see Ron exiting onto my floor.  _ Ron!  _ That’s it. He’d help me get out of this. But how? And that’s when it hit me.

“Ah, but I can,” I said smugly, as Cormac peered at me, waiting for me to go on. “You see, I’m sorry my mother failed to tell you, but I can’t marry you on account of already being married. And here he comes now.”

“What’s going on, Hermione? Who’s this?” Ron asked, eyeing Cormac carefully.

“He’s no one, and he was just leaving. I’ve been waiting for you,” I said, flashing him what I hoped was a seductive smile.

Ron gave me a weird look as Cormac said, “Him? Please. I’m not giving up that easily, especially since I don’t see a ring. We’ll get this sorted out soon, Granger. I’ll be back.”

Cormac purposely bumped into Ron’s shoulder as he walked away. Ron looked ready to drop the pizza to go after him, but I pulled Ron into the flat and shut the door before he had the chance.

He set the box down before turning to look at me. “Mind telling me what that was about?”

“As long as you promise not to be a prat about it.”

“Hermione…”

“I’m serious, Ron.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Well, it’s not in your job description, but—” I paused, thinking of the right way to phrase it. “I'm going to need you to pretend to be my husband for a few weeks, maybe months.”


	2. Chapter 2

###  Ron

“Are you mental?” 

I put up with a lot of bloody shit as Hermione’s assistant. But this? This was taking it too far.

“It’s not like it’s real or anything,” Hermione shrugged.

How was she acting completely nonplussed about this? “So, you’re just going to expect me to abide because I’m your assistant? Don’t I at least get an explanation?”

“Is it really necessary?” Hermione was dodging the question as she moved to fill her plate with food.

“You’re bloody mental; you know that? In what modern existence would you need to  _ pretend  _ to be married to me? Surely you can’t just go all ‘lawyer’ on his arse and get him to back the bloody fuck off! Honestly, it’s not like you’re being forced into an arranged marriage or something!”

I was so angry. Three years, I’d done the most bizarre favors and requests for her when she needed something at the last minute. But this was taking the proverbial cake! 

“It actually is,” she said quietly, breaking me out of my own mental tirade.

“Wait, what?” 

“My mother is trying to set me up with an arranged marriage. That’s what the phone call was about today.”

“Fucking hell.” No other words were coming to mind. I was a bloody git just now. But in my defense, I really didn’t think arranged marriages happened in modern-day England, or France for that matter.

“I vividly remember her saying that she’d be arranging something  _ if  _ I couldn’t find a husband for myself. And then that oaf shows up at my doorstep claiming that I was his future wife, and looking me up and down and...ugh!” 

She banged her fist on the table, which was so unlike her. Even when she was frustrated, she always managed to keep herself together. 

“Alright, alright, take a deep breath. Let’s think this through. Why is your mum insisting on you settling down?” I needed some more information before I agreed to anything.

“She’s always been like this! School in England wasn’t good enough, so I was shipped off to France for secondary. I had to get into  _ Oxford  _ in order to return to England to study law. You’d think any other parent would be proud that their daughter was at the top of their class at the most prestigious university in England, but that wasn’t good enough. 

“You should have heard the phone call I received when she found out I was moving to London to begin my career. At least twice a year, I have to listen to her insist that Paris would suit me so much better, and I should move back home. The ‘settling down’ conversation really started to ramp up about two years ago.” Hermione buried her head in her hands.

I stared at her as I processed her words. “As enlightening as all that information was, that still doesn’t answer the arranged marriage question.”

“I don’t know! I don’t understand it. I’m fully capable of being an independent, single woman. I don’t need a man to complete my life! If he’s out there and it’s meant to be, then it will happen, but I’m not going to be forced into a loveless marriage to appease my mother! I swear if she’s set up a dowry, I will scream.”

Well, it looked as though Hermione Granger’s life wasn’t as perfect as she made everyone believe. Honestly, I felt sorry for her. I walked into her kitchen and pulled out a couple of wine glasses. Opening the bottle, I poured her a drink and handed it to her.

“Here, this should calm your nerves a bit, and try and eat. I know you’re worked up, but it’ll make you feel better.”

“What am I going to do?” she asked desperately.

“Marry me, apparently,” I retorted.

“I never said we actually  _ had  _ to get married. We’d just pretend,” Hermione rolled her eyes as she took a bite.

I couldn’t help but laugh at her incessant need to correct me. “And what do I get out of this deal if I agree?”

“What do you mean?”

“Wouldn’t I be doing you a favor by pretending to be your husband?”

She scowled, knowing I had the upper hand.

“What are you thinking?”

“If we do this, I want a promotion.”

Hermione froze. I could tell she’d stopped chewing as she stared at me. “You aren’t serious.”

“You don’t honestly think I intended on settling as an assistant for my entire career, did you? Not sure if you forgot about my credentials, but I have a law degree, too, and I think you’d admit I’d do ten times better in Zabini’s position than he ever did. Plus, unlike him, I’ve actually earned the position as opposed to having it handed to me.”

Hermione let out an unbecoming snort. “Because this wouldn’t be handed to you.”

“I’ve spent three years trying to prove myself to you, Hermione. Give me a chance. Either that or I’ll have to quit. I’ve passed the bar; I’m ready to be a lawyer, not just a lawyer’s assistant.”

This wasn’t exactly the way I’d intended to bring up the promotion, but I needed some sort of collateral if I was going to pretend to be her husband. I sat there, facing her with my arms folded across my chest. She could think the ball was in her court, but really my answer depended on hers.

“Fine.”

“Come on, Hermione, I swear I can do it. Just give me a cha—wait, what?”

“I said fine. You can take Zabini’s position, but it’s contingent on your performance. So you’ll have a three-month probationary period to prove it’s a good fit.”

I couldn’t help the grin that spread over my face. “Wow, thanks, Hermione! I promise you won’t be disappoi—”

“You also have to see this fake marriage thing through.”

“Oh, yeah, sure. How hard can it be?” I asked. 

Her parents were in France. It wasn’t like they would have anyone come up here and spy on their daughter to make sure she was telling the truth. That would be completely mental!

Before Hermione could answer, her phone rang. “Oh, here we go,” she said. 

I had a feeling I knew who it was. My suspicion was correct as I heard who could only be Mrs. Granger screaming through the phone before Hermione even said a word.

“HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER, HOW COULD YOU?”

“Mum, you said you’d arrange something  _ if  _ I didn’t find myself a husband. That was deceitful.”

“DON’T YOU DARE TALK TO ME THAT WAY. I’VE FOUND YOU A PERFECTLY SUITABLE HUSBAND! YOU  _ WILL  _ MARRY HIM.”

“No, I won’t. Mum, I’ve been—I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you this, but every time you call, I feel as though I’m being berated. It’s hard for me to want to share this happy news with you.”

“What are you talking about?” I heard her mother hiss.

“I got married to a wonderful man a couple of weeks ago. We’ve been dating for the past two years, and we just decided at the spur of the moment to elope.”

I had to hand it to Hermione. It was all I could do to not laugh at her story. While she sounded convincing, there was no way anyone would buy that, no matter how desperate her mother was to see her married off.

I heard hysterical laughter come from her mother’s phone. “Hermione, darling, you know I love you, but I find this very hard to believe. Two years? You would have mentioned him in that amount of time.”

“Well, I have mentioned him, just not as a love interest. I’m sure you can understand why I didn’t say anything; what with your obsession in trying to marry me off and make me settle down.”

Hermione had gone full lawyer mode on her mother, and I stifled a laugh. She was not one to mess with.

“Well, I’ll believe it when I see it. I’ll be coming to London this weekend to meet him and see if he’s suitable for you.”

Hermione gave me a horrified look. She mouthed,  _ what do I say? _ As she covered the receiver with her hand.

“Tell her we’re visiting my family for the weekend,” I whispered.

She gave me a disgusted look, which I followed with mouthing,  _ I’ll explain later _ .

“Erm, sorry, Mum, but we’ll be out of town this weekend. Visiting his family.”

“How convenient. All this ‘his’ and ‘him,’ but no name. I don’t believe you, my dear daughter, and I will get to the bottom of this. You will not fool me just to get out of a simple arranged marriage. Honestly, Hermione, there could be worse things in the world.”

I couldn’t help my open-mouthed stare at Hermione as she snapped her phone shut. “You know, I always thought I was terrified of  _ you _ , but you’re a puppy in comparison to your mum. I’m really sorry.”

“Now do you understand why I moved to England?”

“Completely.”

“Now, where am I going to hide this weekend? Can I stay at your flat? I could always drive to the countryside to get away…” I could tell Hermione’s thoughts were already whirring.

“Er, I was serious about visiting family,” I told her.

“What?”   
  


“My Aunt Muriel is turning 90 this weekend. There’s a big birthday celebration planned that I’m planning to go home for. I’ve got a train ticket for tomorrow.”

“You’re taking Friday off?”

“And Monday. I put in for it two months ago, and you approved it.”

Hermione opened and closed her mouth, unable to come up with a response.

“So, would my dear wife like to spend a long weekend in Devon?” I asked with a cheeky smile.

“If it gets me away from my Mum, then absolutely,” Hermione agreed.

I searched her face, attempting to tell if she was serious or not. She didn’t look like she was joking. “We’re really doing this?”

“Looks like it.”

“Well, we should probably get our stories straight.”

Hermione waved me off, though, and that surprised me. Normally, she was always one for planning. I looked at her confusedly. 

“If we’re traveling tomorrow, I need to pack. So let’s finish eating, and then we should probably call it a night. We can hash out details on the train. It shouldn’t be too difficult. Oh, and it might be best if you booked us both first class. I tend to get motion sickness on the Underground, so best to be safe. You can use my credit card, I guess.”

“So, you’re kicking me out, then?” I quirked an eyebrow.

“You’re the one who sprung a family visit on me at the last minute,” she quipped.

I rolled my eyes as I finally dug into my slices. This was going to be a very interesting arrangement, for sure.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, you can't have a fake marriage without sharing a bed...hope you enjoy this chapter! (Thanks to my betas who I can't name yet as I'm still technically anonymous! <3)

### Ron

“It’s about time!” I said, checking my watch.

“I’m sorry! I needed to make sure everything was in order at the office before leaving. Security needed a briefing about Zabini, and I had a last-minute meeting with McGonagall about his replacement. So you might want to change your tone with me since I just effectively secured the position for you,” Hermione scoffed.

We were at platform nine in King’s Cross Station, and our train was due to depart at 3:45, which was in ten minutes. I was used to her excuses that kept her later than planned at the office, but today she was cutting it closer than usual. Even though I wouldn’t lose any money on the ticket if we missed the train, I’d never hear the end of it from my family if we were late.

We handed our tickets to the collector, who then directed us to our seats. I decided to do what any proper gentleman would and helped Hermione put her bags away before settling into my seat. I wasn’t convinced first class was really necessary for a two and a half hour train ride until I sat in the comfortable leather seat.

Hermione settled into her own seat and immediately pulled out her laptop and headphones as the conductor made one last call. 

“Er, Hermione, you aren’t honestly planning to do work on the trip, are you?” I asked.

“Yes, why wouldn’t I? I wasn’t planning to take Friday off, so I need to get a few more things done to justify it.”

“Shouldn’t we be going over things?”

“What things?”

“Oh, I don’t know, like the fact that we’re pretending to be married and haven’t even discussed what our fake relationship consists of or the other details that we should probably know about each other,” I hissed.

She rolled her eyes at me. “It’ll be fine! We’ll just...say we met at the office, something about late hours and falling in love or some sappy story. What do you think you need to know about me?”

I couldn’t believe her right now. We were doing this whole charade _for her_ , and she wasn’t even taking it seriously! “It’s not me I’m worried about,” I muttered as the train began its slow crawl out of the station.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Hermione, I know way more about your life than you probably believe, but what do you know about me? What’s my favorite food? My favorite football team? How many siblings do I have? Where did I go to school? Who’s my best mate?” 

I knew peppering her with questions she probably didn’t have answers for was going to rile her up, but I didn’t care. She didn’t seem to realize that even though this whole pact was to make her mother call off the arranged marriage, my family also needed to be fooled. It was going to be much more difficult than she was anticipating.

She huffed indignantly. “Let me try and get two things done, and then we’ll discuss this further. Everything will be fine, Ron. We spend enough time together, so it shouldn’t be that hard.”

I watched her put her earbuds back in and began typing away on her laptop. I leaned back against the headrest and closed my eyes. If we were trying to fool any other family, sure. But these were Weasleys we were talking about, and Hermione had no idea what we were up against.

  
  


The train was pulling into the station, and Hermione was just now putting her laptop away. I’d given up after three more attempts to get her to discuss things, accepting that she clearly didn’t care to learn anything about my family. But there was one thing I did need to know.

“Nice of you to join reality again,” I sniped.

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Hermione quipped.

“Last I checked, the whole ‘faking a marriage’ thing _is_ kind of dramatic. You may be under the impression that we can just make it up as we go along, but I do need to know what we’re telling my parents.”

“What do you mean?” Hermione asked. She’d clearly been so self-absorbed in making up a false story for her mother that she didn’t think of what information my family would be privy to.

“Obviously, your side of the family is going to think we’re married, but what about mine? Am I introducing you as my wife?”

Hermione’s face went blank. “Oh. I—I didn’t think about that…”

  
“Clearly. And now we get to greet my mother and aunt with no decision.”

I hadn’t been home since Christmas. I loved my family, I really did, but my father had been pushing me to my limit lately about the family business. Six sons, and I’m the one who gets targeted to take over. Hermione didn’t know anything about our strained relationship or the fact that my family took the prospect of love and marriage _very_ seriously. Not that Hermione would be able to grasp the concept, now that I’d gained insight into her own personal life. It didn’t sound like she came from a very loving home.

“Well, let’s just not say anything until we have to?” Hermione suggested.

  
“Hermione, when a Weasley brings someone home with them, it tends to mean something serious, so they’re going to question our relationship,” I finally admitted. She needed to know what we were up against.

She scoffed. “Surely you’ve brought women home in the past?”

I shook my head. “Never.”

Hermione groaned. “Ron!”  
  


“Save it, Hermione. I don’t need you to scold me about how I ‘should have foreseen this happening, and you should have brought someone home in the past to make this less conspicuous,’” I said in my best ‘Hermione’ voice.

“So, what then? Both of our families are going to think we’re married?” she hissed.

Thankfully, first class was fairly empty, so we weren’t drawing attention to ourselves with this ridiculous conversation. I threw my hands up in the air in defeat.

  
“Looks like it,” I lamented.

“So, how are we going to tell them?” Hermione asked impatiently. 

I heard the doors of the train open and stood up to begin unloading our luggage. “We? I don’t think so. _You_ lied to Cormac and your mum, so I think _I’ll_ be the one to tell my family when the time is right.”

Who knows? Maybe they wouldn’t actually question or suspect a thing. I could just say she’s my girlfriend, after all, and none would be the wiser. Except, they all knew she was my boss. Shit, there really was no easy way around this.

“Fine,” Hermione huffed. “Now tell me about where you live, so I don’t look like a complete imbecile in front of your mum.”

I grabbed the last bag and began walking down the narrow aisle toward the train’s exit. “We live on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole. We call it the Burrow.”

“The Burrow? That sounds so...country.”

“Well, considering we do live in the country, it fits. Ottery St. Catchpole’s a smaller town, but it’s got everything you’d need, so we don’t have to travel far for groceries and other things. Mum does own some chickens that run rampant around the property, though.”

Hermione was trying to hide the disgusted look that was threatening to creep across her face. I knew she always thought I came from a low-income family, and though she did her best not to outwardly judge that, I could tell she wasn’t comfortable with it. But the joke was on her, and I couldn’t wait to see her reaction when we got home.

I led us to the station concourse, where I saw Aunt Muriel holding up a sign that said ‘Welcome home, Ron!’ on it, and my mum was waving ecstatically. You’d think I hadn’t been home in eight years, not eight months. I walked over and hugged them both.

“Ron, we’re so excited you’re home!” Mum said happily. “And you must be Hermione! Ron’s told us so much about you,” she said, reaching out to pull Hermione in for a hug as well.

I couldn’t help but laugh at Hermione’s discomfort. She did not like to be touched, especially by people she didn’t know.

“It’s so...nice to meet you,” she said.

“We’re excited to have you here! Ron’s never brought a woman home before. You must be someone special,” Aunt Muriel interjected.

“Oh, well, I don’t know about that,” Hermione stuttered. I noticed a blush creep up on her face. She was so out of her element that it was throwing me off guard, too.

“Alright, Aunt Muriel, let’s not hound her too much. Should we get to the car?”

“Yes, yes! The rest of the family can’t wait to see you!” Aunt Muriel clapped her hands together.

“So, everyone’s home, then?” I asked.

“Everyone but Charlie,” Mum chimed in. “He’ll be flying in late tomorrow.”

We all walked out to the parking lot and loaded into Mum’s SUV. The Burrow was about a half hour’s drive from the train station, so we had a bit of time ahead of us. Not that I could talk to Hermione about anything since Mum and Muriel were right there.

“The countryside is beautiful,” Hermione commented. 

I was surprised by her reaction. She was such a city girl that I wasn’t expecting her to actually like anything other than smog-filled air, buildings that appeared to be on top of each other, and coffee shops on every corner.

“It is, isn’t it?” Mum responded. “There will be so much to show you in the few days that you’re here. Although, perhaps we’ll have more visits to look forward to in the future?”

“Oh, er, maybe,” Hermione said as I inwardly grimaced. It was already starting. “I did my best to get all my work done on the train, but I can’t promise I won’t need to slip away to take care of something at some point this weekend.”

She was such a workaholic, and sometimes it worried me. “Mum, don’t plan every waking moment, yeah? It’s meant to be a somewhat relaxing weekend.”

“Of course, dear.”

“Speaking of, do you mind dropping me off at the hotel in town? I’ve booked a room there for the weekend. I just want to drop off my things and freshen up,” Hermione asked politely.

“Oh, no need to worry about that, dear!” Aunt Muriel told her, and I looked up sharply.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“We canceled Hermione’s reservation. If she came here with you, then she’s family, and family will stay at the Burrow!”

“But surely you’ll need the space with the whole family staying there this weekend?” Hermione countered. I could tell she was trying to keep her voice even despite the rising panic of the sudden change of plans.

“Oh, don’t you worry about that!” Mum said. “There will be plenty of space, I assure you.”

Hermione shot me a wary look, but I wasn’t going to confirm or deny my mother’s statement. I could tell she was convinced the Burrow was a tiny, run-down farm, and I was going to let her think that until she saw it for herself.

See, my family wasn’t actually poor. We used to be, since Dad was an entrepreneur. He’d obtained a computer science degree at university, so he’d started his own computer company from scratch. There were some rough years growing up with seven mouths to feed, but once he developed the prototype for the desktop and then the laptop, it quickly became one of the most successful companies across the UK and most of Europe. We were...pretty well off thanks to his creation of the MuggleBook. And so the company Phoenix was born.

“Ron,” hearing my name drew me back to the present,” I know you and Hermione had to work today, so I hope you don’t mind...we’ve got a small gathering planned at the house with everyone tonight,” Aunt Muriel said sweetly as we came into the town of Ottery St. Catchpole.

I winced, knowing Mum put Muriel up to telling me about the party. “Er, how many are we talking?”

“Oh, just the whole family and some of your father’s friends from the town,” Mum said, waving off my question while purposely avoiding looking in the rearview to catch my eye.

“So, no less than fifty people, then?” I groaned.

“Don’t worry, Ronnie, it won’t be too late!” Aunt Muriel said.

Hermione shot me a worried look, which she had every right to. I knew they’d purposely waited to tell me about the party until we got to town, so I wouldn’t have time to argue about it. Yeah, this wasn’t going to be good. We turned onto our road, and the Burrow gradually came into view.

“Here we are! Home, sweet home!” Mum said cheerily.

I watched Hermione turn to catch a glimpse of the house, and her eyes widened. In fairness, the house was huge, probably what some would label as a mansion. When the company began bringing in a significant amount of profit, Dad splurged on building us the perfect home. We had the land, and he wanted to give us everything. Mum didn’t want all the extra space back then, but I have a feeling she appreciates it now when all the nieces and nephews are there.

There were ten bedrooms. One for each of us growing up, except the twins, who shared, plus a play-room and two guest rooms. Mum converted the play-room and one of the guest rooms into a bunk bed oasis for the grandkids who were old enough to all stay in the room together. My nieces and nephews loved being able to all sleep in the same room when they all came home for the holidays. And my brothers also appreciated the privacy. Ginny would, too, eventually.

Mum parked the car, and I got out to unpack our luggage. Hermione came around back to the trunk and hissed, “You didn’t tell me your family was rich.”

“You never asked,” I said simply. 

“You could have prepared me for this, though!”

“Yeah, well, I think we have bigger problems ahead of us if there’s a full-blown party happening inside.” 

I handed Hermione her bags as we walked toward the house. After setting my bags at the top of the porch steps, I help Aunt Muriel up.

“Don’t worry about your bags, dears, I’ll take them in with me around the back and put them upstairs,” Mum said as Muriel was practically pulling us toward the door.

“They’re here!” Muriel said after opening the front door. 

There was a stampede of little feet that were running to greet me, and I took turns hugging all of my nieces and nephews. After they’d thinned out, my brothers and sister each came over to say hello and to meet Hermione, who looked oddly out of place.

“So, ickle Ronniekins finally brings a woman home, and it’s his boss?” Fred asked.

“It _is_ interesting, isn’t it, Fred?” George asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Oi, leave him alone, you two,” Bill, my eldest brother warned my twin brothers. “It’s nice to meet you, Hermione. Don’t mind them.”

“It’s nice to meet you all, too,” she said politely, even though I could tell she was overwhelmed. “I’ll do my best to remember everyone’s names, but please forgive me if it takes a bit.”

“It’s fine; there are a lot of us. Although, if you get my name wrong, I will be offended,” my sister Ginny said as she extended her hand. 

I rolled my eyes as Harry came up behind her. “Hey, Harry!” 

Harry was my best friend and Ginny’s husband. He was the person I missed the most when I didn’t come home often, but he’d come up to London at least once a month to get together, so it wasn’t so bad. Although, with them expecting their first child in a few months, I had a feeling those might become fewer and far between as well.

I noticed Ginny and Angelina whisk Hermione away as I was catching up with Harry, and I figured she’d be alright.

“So, what’s up with you and your boss? We’re best friends, and you’ve never mentioned anything before,” Harry said, giving me a peculiar look.

“Let’s go outside, and I’ll tell you,” I said. 

I couldn’t keep this from Harry. Plus, it might make me feel a little better if I told someone. We sat on the front porch, and I told him everything that transpired last night.

“So, let me get this straight. You two are pretending to be married so her Mum won’t force her into an arranged marriage?” I nodded. “That is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard. You know everyone assumes you’re together, right?”

“Yeah, I s’pose they do. Not that I have any idea what to tell them. Hermione’s under the impression we can just be friends for the weekend and don’t have to tell anyone anything. She’s clearly never met my family.”

Harry laughed. “No kidding. Good luck with that one, mate.”

“Thanks for the support.”

“Anytime. Speaking of, I should probably warn you that Lavender’s inside somewhere.”

“Wh-what?” I was dumbstruck. 

Lavender and I were high school sweethearts, but we broke up shortly after going to university. She stayed closer to home while I wanted to move away. We loved each other, but I knew deep down it would never have worked. 

“Yeah. Molly invited everyone. I think she suspects you have an announcement since you brought Hermione with you and all.”

I groaned. “If I make it through this weekend unscathed, you need to come to London, and we can hit up all the pubs. I’m going to need it after this weekend.”

  
“Sure, mate. Speaking of, we should probably head back inside.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”

We walked back in, and I went to the kitchen to get a drink. Hermione was in there, and she pulled me aside. “Why do they all keep asking to see a ring?”

“What? How would I know?”  
  


“You said you didn’t tell them anything!”  
  


“I didn’t!” I defended myself. “Although...Harry said something about Mum thinking I had a big announcement. So everyone probably thinks we’re engaged.”

“Well, they’ll be in for a huge surprise if they find out we’re _married_ ,” she whispered. I could hear the air quotes in her voice even though she didn’t use them.

“Only if we have to tell them,” I reminded her through gritted teeth.

“Ron.” I froze at the sound of my father’s voice.

“Go find Ginny. I’ll be back in a bit.”

I loved my dad, I really did. But I’d be lying if I said our relationship wasn’t strained. “Hey, Dad,” I said, walking over to him.

“It’s nice to see you home again. We’ve missed you, you know.”

“Er, yeah. Work’s been...busy.”

“Too busy to not take a two-hour train ride more than once a year? You don’t know how many years your aunt has left, and your mother misses you dearly. Ever since I asked you how you’d feel about taking over the company with Percy, you’ve become more and more absent from this family—”

“Because you won’t take no for an answer! Dad, I love what I do—”

“You love being an assistant? You have a law degree! You could handle all of the legal matters for the company and put your degree to good work! Yet, you're currently working as an assistant. To your boss, who you’ve invited here tonight. Are you going to explain that to us?”

“I’m not interested in getting a handout in an area of law I’m not passionate about. You, out of everyone, should understand that. _And_ what it’s like to work up the ranks. If you really need to know, a spot has just opened up on the team, and I’ve been asked to fill it, so I won’t be an assistant for much longer. And that woman you’re already judging about being my ‘boss’ is my wife. I know you have issues with me not wanting to continue your legacy to pursue my own dreams, but do not drag her down with me.”

I wasn’t sure what came over me. I could normally hold my own with my father while remaining even-tempered. We’d have the same discussion, I’d tell him I have my own aspirations, and we’d go on the rest of my stay avoiding the subject and acting as if everything was fine for Mum’s sake. But when he brought up Hermione, I couldn’t let him get away with that. None of this was her fault.

“YOUR WHAT?!” My mother screeched.

_Oh, fuck. Did I really say it that loud?_ The entire room was silent and staring at us. This was not going to go over well. My eyes sought Hermione’s, who was showing the same shocked expression I was pretty sure my own face was twisted into.

“We’re, uh, married,” I said hesitantly this time.

“Why isn’t she wearing a ring, then?” Fleur asked.

“Oh, I don’t actually wear jewelry,” Hermione said. I was impressed by her quick thinking. “And we only just eloped a few weeks ago. Things have been so busy at the firm that we haven’t had a chance to go pick out wedding bands. And, with Ron’s promotion, we didn’t need people thinking he only received it because we’re together romantically.”

“And when were you planning on telling us?” Aunt Muriel asked.

“Er, tonight. We just weren’t sure when. I didn’t mean for it to slip out like that. Sorry,” I muttered.

“Well, I think we should give a toast to the happy couple!” Fred said jubilantly.

Everyone seemed to come out of their shocked stupor at the sound of Fred’s voice and raised their glasses in cheers. Soft chatter began to ripple through the room as conversations started to pick up again. I was about to walk over to Hermione and explain when Lavender walked up to me.

  
“Hi,” she said shyly. “Long time, no see.”

“Hey!” It really had been such a long time.

“It’s good to see you,” she said. “And I guess congratulations are in order.”

“Oh, er, yeah. Thanks,” I managed.

“She seems like a lovely person.”

“She is,” I half agreed.

I knew I sounded distracted, and I felt bad, but I just couldn’t have this conversation with Lavender right now. There were other pressing matters to attend to.

“I don’t mean to be rude, but—”

“Oh! No, it’s fine. Really. I just wanted to say hi, anyways.”

I nodded awkwardly as I dismissed myself and walked over to Hermione. “I’m sorry,” I whispered in her ear.

“What happened?” she asked.

“It doesn’t matter. I just let my temper get the best of me, and it slipped out. Good thinking with the elopement and the rings.”

“Yes, well, it occurred to me when the question was being asked from your sisters-in-law.” 

“So…” Ginny interrupted loudly. “How’d Ron propose, Hermione? What’s the story there?”

“How’d he propose? I want to know when they started dating!” Angelina chimed in.

“We’ve got time! Let’s hear the whole story,” Muriel insisted.

“Oh, erm, it’s not that special, really,” I said in an attempt to deflect the attention off of us.

“Don’t be silly, Ron! Every love story is romantic in its own way,” Mum insisted.

I looked at Hermione, attempting to gauge who she wanted to tell it. Maybe we’d pass on and off. That’d be a real trick, considering the whole thing was going to be made up.

“Well, we started dating two years ago,” Hermione started. “So many late nights at the office, and it just blossomed into something more. Ron would always make sure we were stocked with food and would insist on leaving after a certain hour. He’s always taking care of me and making sure I don’t overwork myself too much—”

“—Which is why I suggested we get away for a few days back in June. There was this great deal on Groupon for four days and three nights in the Bahamas, so we decided to go on a whim. There was a lull in cases, and we both had holiday pay.”

I needed to interrupt her because my family knew I went away in June. It all needed to line up.

“Yes! A few days on the beach with the ocean view was just what we needed. We had a few too many cocktails, and before we knew it, we went from talking about our next steps to having a private ceremony on the beach. The sunset was in the background, and it was perfect. I have so much stress at work that I didn’t want to deal with all the stress of planning a wedding.”

All of the girls were ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ until Bill said, “But I was just out there a couple of weeks ago. You two don’t still have separate flats, do you?”

“We’re waiting for my lease to expire next month,” I said quickly. “It’s been giving us time to find a new place to call our own.”

This whole lying thing was coming far easier to us than I was expecting. Not that it made me feel any less terrible about the entire situation.

“Oh, that’s just wonderful!” Muriel said as my mother agreed.

I was relieved we got through it unscathed, but I needed to talk to her tonight about making sure the other details lined up. Before I could excuse myself, Fred and George began clinking their beer bottles. I caught Harry’s eye, and he gave me a sympathetic look as more family members joined in. 

“Come on, kiss! Don’t be shy!” Ginny said, egging everything on.

Hermione looked up at me, her brows furrowed ever so slightly, expressing her concern. I raised my eyebrows in an attempt to ask her if she was okay with this nonverbally. She nodded ever so slightly. _Well, here goes nothing._ I tentatively moved closer before leaning down to capture her lips with my own.

It was incredibly awkward and stiff as we shared a quick peck, hoping that would appease everyone. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t, and there was a chorus of ‘boos’, begging us for more. We shared a frazzled look before I placed my hand on her waist and pulled her in for something a little more romantic.

I reminded myself this was all for show as we both opened up a little bit more and committed to the kiss this time. I wasn’t expecting a jolt of energy to flow through me as our lips met the second time. Her mouth parted ever so slightly as I started to pull away, but then she leaned in and kissed me back. For a moment, I forgot this was simply an arrangement, as we stood there in a close embrace. I was completely unaware that my hand had travelled up into her hair or that her arms had snaked around my neck.

We broke apart quickly when one of my brothers joked about getting a room, and Percy reminded us to ‘keep it PG-rated for the kids.’ I knew my ears were as red as her face was. Everyone chuckled, and the party resumed once more.

An hour or so later, most of the guests left, and my siblings were getting their kids tucked into bed. Mum led Hermione and me to my childhood bedroom. The full-size bed had been replaced with a king at some point, but there were still elements that reminded me of my teenage years, like the more subtle shade of orange on the walls and the few Chudley Cannons posters that remained. I was sure my room had been converted into another guest bedroom, which was the only reason why the bed was now a king. If any of my siblings knew, they’d be sure to give me hell.

My mum was always a wonderful host, showing Hermione the bathroom and where she placed all her bags before wishing us a good night’s sleep. She shut the door behind her as Hermione sat on the bed.

“Well, that wasn’t a complete disaster…” I said lightly.

“No, but now we’re sharing a room for the next three nights.”

“I’ll sleep on the floor. You can have the bed.” 

“It’s—It’s probably big enough if we grabbed some extra pillows and just placed them down the middle if you wanted,” Hermione suggested.

I eyed her carefully. “Are you sure?”

“Y-yes. It’s your house. I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor.”

“If you say so. I’m just going to use the bathroom first, and then it’s all yours. Sorry again about tonight.”

“It is what it is,” Hermione said. “Just a few more days, and then we can get back to our own lives.

“Right.”

I settled into bed and rolled over to face away from her. I tried to force myself to sleep, but I couldn’t stop thinking about our kiss. Not the first one, the second one. The one where she leaned in for more, and I’d gladly obliged. There was something about her lips on mine, and much to my dismay, I wanted more. _Why did I want more?_

  
This was Hermione we were talking about. My _boss_. Maybe it was just because I hadn’t been with anyone in a while. That’s probably why I was so desperate for more. Yes, that had to be it. At least, that’s what I kept telling myself as I fell into a fitful night’s sleep.


End file.
